Mystery crime fiction written in the Golden Age of Murder "The 'stranger in a strange land' premise works really well in this revived mystery...Bude infuses the tale with comic commentary throughout." ― Booklist 'Small hostilities were growing; vague jealousies were gaining strength; and far off, wasn't there a nebulous hint of approaching tragedy in the air?' Welworth Garden City in the 1940s is a forward-thinking town where free spirits find a home―vegetarians, socialists, and an array of exotic religious groups. Chief among these are the Children of Osiris, led by the eccentric High Prophet, Eustace K. Mildmann. The cult is a seething hotbed of petty resentment, jealousy and dark secrets―which eventually lead to murder. The stage is set for one of Inspector Meredith's most bizarre and exacting cases. This witty crime novel by a writer on top form is a neglected classic of British crime fiction. A crafty set of final revelations ensures that the delayed gratification pays off for whodunit fans. Mystery buffs will want to seek out more work from this golden age author.-- " Publishers Weekly " Bude manages to maintain a pleasantly sharp satirical tone while juggling what would prove to be a very complex plot. ...it is a most likeable book.--Leslie Blatt " Classic Mysteries " The 'stranger in a strange land' premise works really well in this revived mystery...Bude infuses the tale with comic commentary throughout.--Connie Fletcher " Booklist " JOHN BUDE was the pseudonym of Ernest Elmore (1901–1957), an author of the golden age of crime fiction. Elmore was a cofounder of the Crime Writers' Association, and worked in the theatre as a producer and director. Death Makes a Prophet By John Bude Poisoned Pen Press Copyright © 2017 Estate of John Bude All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4642-0902-4 Contents Introduction, 1, Part I Welworth Garden City, 5, I The Children of Osiris, 7, II Mrs. Hagge-Smith Has a Vision, 16, III Eustace Writes a Letter, 31, IV The Missing Crux Ansata, 47, V Penpeti Turns the Screw, 61, VI Mayblossom Cut, 75, VII The Man in the Teddy-Bear Coat, 88, VIII Near Miss, 102, Part II Old Cowdene, 107, IX Sid Arkwright Listens In, 109, X The Letters in the Case, 121, XI The High Prophet Plans a Theft, 133, XII Overture to Murder, 145, XIII Inspector Meredith Gets Cracking, 149, XIV Unknown Visitor, 162, XV Fatal Effect, 172, XVI Terence Through the Hoop, 187, XVII Pow-Wow with Penpeti, 201, XVIII The Poison Puzzle, 216, XIX A Young Lady Gives Evidence, 225, XX Mr. Dudley Talks, 235, XXI Death Down the Lane, 244, XXII Final Facts, 254, XXIII Meredith on Form, 262, CHAPTER 1 The Children of Osiris I "An Englishman, as a free man," said Voltaire, "goes to heaven by the road which pleases him." If there are many roads that lead to perdition, then there are as many that lead to salvation; and England probably houses more diverse, odd and little known religions than any other country in the world. And of all places in this island most conducive to the flourishing of these many beliefs, none can equal the little town of Welworth. Welworth is not an ordinary town. It is that rarefied, mushroom-like, highly individualistic conglomeration of bricks and mortar known as a Garden City. There is no house in Welworth over thirty years old. There are no slums, monuments, garden-fences, bill-hoardings or public-houses. There is a plethora of flowering shrubs, litter-baskets, broad avenues, Arty-Crafty Shoppes, mock-Tudor, mock-Georgian, mock-Italianate villas. There is, of course, a Health Food Store selling Brazil Nut Butter, cold spaghetti fritters, maté tea and a most comprehensive and staggering range of herbal pills and purgatives. Per head of the population, Welworth probably consumes more lettuce and raw carrot than any other community in the country. A very high percentage of the Welworth élite are not only vegetarians, but non-smokers, non-drinkers and non-pretty-well-everything-that-makes-life-worth-living for less high-minded citizens. They weave their own cloth, knit their own jumpers and go their own ways with that recherché look common to all who have espoused the Higher Life. Many favour shorts and open-work sandals. A large number do barbola-work or dabble in batik. Some are genuine, some are not; but all bear with them the undeniable stamp of individuality and burn with the unquenchable fire of their particular faith. It may be Theosophy or Babaism; it may be Seventh Day Adventism, Christian Science, Pantheism or what you will — but in a naughty world full of atheists and agnostics, Welworth is a refreshing centre of spiritual élan and a complete refutation of the theory that sectarianism in this country is on the wane. It is claimed (with all due deference to Mr. Heinz) that there are fifty-seven varieties of religion in Welworth. It speaks highly of the town's tolerance. Some are orthodox. Some are unorthodox but well known. Others are